Can't Sleep
by Phanax Leminer
Summary: Even after the war, his inner demons couldn't let go. In an age where the desperate is considered weak, can he be help by his teammates or left to rot from the inside?
1. Ashes to Ashes

**Chapter 1: Ashes to Ashes**

The heat was intolerable for his skin, the air was filled with sharp and charred bits of trash. Air came in, but something within was making it hard to breath out.

The streets he once knew since his childhood had been perverted to a shamble of their former selves. The inhabitants, all ran for their lives to refugee camps outside of the city. He remembered the laughs of children, the small talks between neighbors and friends, the sound of engineered chariots advancing as steam came out of their pipes to raise to the blue sky.

Washington had never been in this state and neither were his men and women.

A terrorist attack, that's all it took for their whole world to turn upside-down. The city was now a battlefield and no one knew how it would end. There were no visible victors or losers, both parties were even. Even if the military had the weapons and training, the enemies had the number which overwhelmed the army.

In the mist of all this ordeal, Sergeant Henry Flemming was now alone.

His steam boiler, a backpack seize boiler connected to his rifle as a ammunition' dispenser, was damaged by countless bullets and had to throw it away. Not to mention his multiple injuries he took so far made it impossible to hold on the heavy boiler. Worst was his chest, Henry isn't a man of physiology, but he knew something was wrong. He felt as if his breath were meaningless to keep him focus. The sensation was similar to a merciless grip around his own heart. He doesn't know how long he has left before he dies. A part of him hoped it would come to this.

He had been on the run for two days now, never manage to get a moment to rest properly. Eating and drinking were bare, anything he would swallow was a torture.

He had to hide from the rebels, in enemy territory he can't let his guard down. As fatigue and hunger settled in, his body began to perform sluggishly. He tripped more then he would admit, it was as if his body was trying to force him to sleep on the cold ground. Thankfully, every time he got up quickly by a sadistic miracle.

He was situated close-by the east market, the area was strangely deserted. He let out a groan from his chipped lips and rubbed his tired eyes. When he opened them, there was people, smiling and shopping across the market.

Dear men and women of Washington now around reconstructed shops selling steam machine parts, food, clothes, anything and nothing. It was as if the war never came to this little place.

The soldier knew it wasn't real, faces aren't blank and covered by shadows. He walked through the corridor of ghosts of the past, none looked at him or took notice of the dying man right at their side. Henry fought his best against the intent to touch the fake people, he needed help even from the hallucinations. He needed to be told he'll be fine, reinforcements were coming to save him and his team, even if those comforting words were lies. He wanted to awake from a waking nightmare.

He passed through the manifested illusions and never looked back, wishing to not break the only moment of serenity since those couple of days.

Henry kept walking, hearing the sounds of gunshots and yells.

From two different sides.

If he wasn't so tired and in pain, he would yell in joy and run to the battle. Instead, he dragged himself to the nearby sounds. Finally, he was no longer alone and could get back to his army.

When he arrived, he was at the end of a hallway directly headed to the middle of the fight. On one side, the rebels, on the other, the good men of his country. All he needs is to get to his side and get back to base. They wouldn't let one of their own die like this, even if he was a murderer, right?

The moment he got out of hiding, Henry was immediately targeted and fired by enemy infantries. Although weaken, he managed to get behind cover, but not unscathed. A bullet stuck itself in his shoulder, his cry let out his presence to his comrades before collapsing on the ground. In his mind, he knew he wasn't going to make it.

He vaguely heard someone saying to go get him out, to which someone did went through the danger of getting shot down. He knew because, even if he was on the ground he could hear the sound of clicking metal getting closer to him.

''Henry! Man, don't tell me you are dead!'' He recognized that voice. He can identify that tone from a million voices, but what was he doing here? Shouldn't he be in the back rows, making more steamed engines?

He turned his head and saw a man towering over him. He was already tall as it stands, but he looked a titan from his point of view.

''J-John?'' He croaked and closed his eyes, everything hurts even his voice was a pain.

''Don't worry Henry! Once we got those guys out, we'll fix you right up! Just stay with me!'' Ordered the black man with the grenade launcher.

In a moment of delirium, Henry thought how he never understand why someone would bring a grenade launcher to a battle as his primary weapon. Steam amount is high to fire a single shot and the given boiler is too heavy for a man like himself to carry around. However, John is a strong man by nature. Just like Jonathan.

He must have passed out for a moment, since now he was lying on his back and was surrounded by three men, one who was John, a doctor and a colonel.

''He's coming back!'' John called out to the two other men.

''He's lucky.'' Simply explained the doctor. ''With those wounds, he should be dead by now.''

''Hey! He's not called Guardian Angel for no reasons!'' Protested John to the medic.

The colonel left as he gathered his men to move out soon. The men wearing the red cross, called out some men to help him to transport the wounded in a vehicle. John stood by Henry's side.

''Can't believe you're alive Henry boy!'' Laughed John in relief. ''We thought those chickens got ya!''

Henry weakly nodded, lying down just made him sleepier by the second.

''...Hey, Henry?'' John's face looked away for a moment. ''Where are the others?''

Henry didn't answer right away. He looked away from John's stare and managed to shock his head pitifully. John just kept quiet, he didn't dare to say more as he felt Henry's tense up by the sudden realization that he indeed came alone.

It's only now he suddenly fell asleep, the days took their toll on him as he hoped he wasn't going to be left behind.


	2. Retelling

**Chapter 2: Retelling**

It has been two weeks now and Henry was still bedridden.

He was told he survived for two days with four fractured ribs, a collapsed lung and top it off he was walking on a broken ankle the whole time. Not to forget the newly added bullet to his shoulder. Adrenaline through it all had the effect to ignore such pain, but caused him to sleep for five days in a row.

On the last day, he was welcomed by a nurse who was kind enough to telling him where he was and what happened to him. It's always a comfortable sight to see a woman in those times, mostly in war.

Since his awakening, he want through multiple surgeries and had to take a heavy dose of medications which made him as lucid as a drunken man. As the days progressed, so did his health. Recovering from a collapsed lung is a true testament of one's will. Doctors were afraid they might have to remove the organ, but were baffled to see the lung restoring at a decent pace. Thanks to the drugs, the pain was immensely diminished, but some days he would awake with the tense ache in his chest again. It was as if took his first breath after so long.

Unfortunately, something also came up by doctors. A problem which they only learn on the second week. The patient never told of this issue, to the medical staff's frustration. If physical health was progressing, the mind was another story. Symptoms of a condition only discovered a few years back resurfaced like a crawling demon, signs of survivor guilt.

No one knew exactly why a soldier who usually sees death on the battlefield would suffers such disorder, but theorizes came in which a weak mental might be the cause. The recovering man showed most symptoms; an irregular sleep pattern, nervous when something new had to be introduce to his medication, limited interaction with the medical staff. Newly added, nightmares complained by nurses which had to wake him up from. The only thing they can do is to assign him to an eventual psychologist, in hopes the specialist can strength the mind of the soldier quickly.

Officials of the army demanded to see Henry, but doctors explained to them it was impossible. Arrival from the army's superiors could trigger an unwanted reaction, as documented in previous cases. Thus, they suggested to get through the report by someone else, a friend was the best solution.

On that day, Henry awoke from a rare dreamless sleep with company in his room and it wasn't one of those woman in white. John was sitting by his side on a chair too small for him. He couldn't help himself, but to let out a chuckle at this sight.

''There you are.'' Welcomed John to his friend.

''Hey.'' He grimaced at the sound of his words, his voice sounded awful and broken.

''You're holding up?'' It was a slightly dumb question. John knew Henry was still in pain and with the type of injuries he was submitted to, there's no wonder the sergeant was still in the room.

''...Had better days.'' Henry tried his best to light up the situation, he saw John giving him a smirk.

''That's good.'' Nodded the Afro-american to his Caucasian friend. He scratched the back of his head in a guilty matter. ''I wish I can say I just came here to check on you, but the general wanted someone to know what happened to you and... your squad.''

Henry's eyes darken, he knew someone would come to judge him. Both men kept silent for a moment, it was Henry who broke it.

''They are all dead.'' John looked up to the injured man. He could see the deep sadness in Henry's eyes, but he refused to let a single tear fall. ''I let them to die, John.''

''Henry.'' The muscular man tried to calm down the weak man. He was clearly in distress , but didn't know how to help him. He was never a very emphatic character. ''Man, just... tell me what happened. You don't have to tell me in details.''

Henry avoided eye contact, he knew if he looked at John he would likely go bewildered and with those injuries he would just reopen the wounds. Finally, Henry talk to the curtain instead of John.

''We were going into enemy territory. We were task to capture and secure a strategic building for the rebels.'' He began in a defeated tone. ''We heard civilians were trapped from refugees, so we went godspeed.'' Henry refused to look at his friend. ''When we arrived, we got in with little trouble, but as soon we got to the holding place... we saw them.'' John could have imagine it, but he sworn he saw Henry shaking. ''The hostages,'' a trembling breath, ''were all executed and the whole building turned into an ambush.''

John didn't comment on the strange tone of Henry. ''We were outnumbered by triple. It was a massacre. We got them... but got us as well.'' Henry managed to breath in some air in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves. ''I tried to save all of them. The building caught on fire, I was taking out Joshua when the fire suddenly grew.'' Another pause, John kept his eyes on the man's back. He remembered the young recruit, he was barely eighteen years old.

''He told me to save myself, he told me he and the others were goners.'' The engineer saw the hand of his friend to clutch at the sheet's white fabric. ''I didn't want to believe, told Joshua he was crazy, that I could get them all out... But he insisted. The fire grew so large it felt like Hell. He said I alone can escape and tell their families. I got out and I left them all to die in... that blasted place. I let my whole team to die in a slow, agonizing death. I left them...''

Henry's voice died out at the end. John knew it was the hardest moment of Henry's career. The afro-american had been in the army for now six years, the times he want on the field were a complete opposite to the garages he worked in. The next guy could fall on the ground and never get back up, the adrenaline rushing through one's body is an experience he hates to feel. It's like your body goes to a panic mode and suddenly leave you with bare strength to survive.

For the caucasian, it's another story. Story went the men he was with always survived no matter the ordeal in front of them. Suicide mission with Henry were close to a walk through the park. Something always went wrong for the rebels when Henry's group engaged. It was as if someone or something was watching over them. That's why his close friends and, quickly, the army nicknamed Henry Flemming; Guardian Angel.

This time, however, the angel flew somewhere else when Henry needed him the most and only came back when everyone else were gone.

John stayed silent. Seeing his friend didn't continue, he spoke out.

''I know you tried your best.'' He tried to comfort in an amateur knowledge.

''It wasn't enough.'' Replied dryly his close friend, still unwilling to look at his friend. ''I couldn't save any of them.'' He let out a choke of a laugh. ''What sort of guardian angel let others die?''

John didn't know how to answer that. He wasn't a man who believe in a higher force, an angel even less. It would be wrong to say to Henry to say those winged humans don't exist.

''Henry, listen man.'' The injured man heard his friend got up from his tiny sit and took a step closer between them. ''I know you're a good man. One of the best of the bests! I can't say what happened to you I understand, but I, totally, understand your pain! I saw friends, old comrades in the garages take a bullet and never get up. I saw what this stupid war is doing to families in the back lines. It hurts, I goddamn know that! But I can't pity myself for everything! The only thing I can do is to work and make those tanks and guns, because if I don't more lives to be lost!''

He just now realized he was shouting at Henry. The injured didn't however moved from his initial position since he talked of what happened to his group. He worried over the fact the man didn't respond to his sudden outburst. Henry just kept silent, so alien to John. Imagine his surprise when Henry talked back in a calm tone.

''They told me I'll see a psychologist starting tomorrow. I think... I think he can help.'' Truth be told, Henry didn't believe in it one bit. It felt wrong to have someone who pokes in your mind and tries to change it like a mechanic changing a engine for the wrong car.

''You want my opinion?'' Finally, Henry looked back at John. By the torch of Lady Liberty he looked like he didn't sleep for days. ''Time changed, they no longer uses leeches and put holes in your head. They just talk, give it a try.''

Henry can't help but to laugh at the mention of leeches and holes in brains. Who in their right mind would think it would help?

''Yeah.'' He acknowledged hesitantly. ''I'll see how it goes.''

''Alright.'' Nodded the strong man. ''I have to go. Working on a new project to make that tunnel.'' He headed to the door as Henry followed him with eyes gleaming with fatigue. ''And Henry, try to cooperate with the nurses. It's going to be a while before you'll see those kind of legs.''

Henry smiled, a gesture he didn't make for two weeks long. He managed to lift his hand and wave at John. ''Take care John.'' He allowed to smirk, God knows I'll keep an eye out.

Already did too.

He lied down back in the bed and tried to relax. His body demanded rest, too much of his own oblige. His blue eyes slowly closed down and drove to slumber.

It grew hot.

He opened his eyes and the room was ablaze. His heart pumping like a mad devil at the sudden danger and forced his body to move itself away from the bed to the door who cringed open.

As he moved, his joint started to ache at the sudden strength and his chest tied around his heart again. Once he got up, he was back in his old uniform with his boiler back with a rifle in hand. The fire ravaged all the furniture and the steam machines around him, gnawing at every single inches. He inched his way to the door and ultimately stopped.

To his horror, fingers wrapped around his ankle and soon more joined gripping his legs in desperation to be save. Henry didn't turn to see what held him in place, he knew what was it and it terrified him to know they escaped from Hell to join them.

He couldn't reach the door, the hands bind him to his spot and wouldn't let him go.

''Let me go!'' He cried out, the air turned into a storm of ashes and toxic smoke. The grip only got stronger, he could hear curses echoing through the fire. The voices were incomprehensible, only a few words came out to his understanding.

''Let me go!'' He tried again, but the hands refused of his depart. They died horribly and so must he in their own terms. In anger, Henry saw no other possibility. In a fit of rage and denial, he turned around and shot.

Unfortunately, there was no corpses or demons. The fire still raged on, but he was not seeing an army of undead. Instead, he faced a man in blue clothing and honorable medals on his front. An image of patriotism and of justice, the founder of S.T.E.A.M and the man he respected above all; Abraham Linclom.

His realization came when he saw the chest of his president turning to red. To his horror, the top hatted man wasn't faze at the assault and simply, slowly shocked his head in regret. He opened his mouth and let the words to come out like snakes.

''Murderer.''

Before Henry could say anything, take another breathe, the ceiling collapsed over him and nothing but darkness captured him.


	3. Bottled Up

**Chapter 3: Bottled Up**

The S.T.E.A.M group finally liberated the magical land of Oz after much battles and hardships. Back from the Monument Valley's Boiler Room, the team had been ambushed by the crystalline alien forces. The battle in the hangar was a flight and fight situation where victory was impossible, only survival was permitted.

S.T.E.A.M agents managed to repel an immense alien acting as a walking bomb. A bomb with three snake heads firing lasers. The aliens doesn't sugarcoat their troops' raw power.

Once the menace of an explosion was removed, the team covered fire for the Boiler Room's mechanics and technicians for them to escape the facility. Soon enough, it was their turn to run toward their signature airship, the Lady Liberty.

They retreated to the Land of Emeralds and stop the invasion from the azure invaders. With the queen of Oz safe and the city of green returned to its rightful ruler, the team deserved a moment to rest. The Liberty and their leader needed recovery. An explosion to your face always lead to negative side effects. Even worst was that impact should have not hurt the president, it should have kill the soldier standing right next to it.

The soldier who took his place as leader until he awakes.

However, the president wasn't awaking up. Oz's doctors couldn't understand how the man was still unconscious, it went against all their years of experience. This only worried the team further, but even more the assigned leader who began to slowly loose his patience.

It was now a couple of days since the reclaim of Oz. Henry quietly closed himself from the others. John couldn't keep a talk with his friend, as the Caucasian barely tried to keep up with the conversations. Usually, he could be found in the training room, but Henry suddenly stopped practicing after a day in Oz. The agents quickly caught on the issue, but silently took the right decision to not disturb the man. Others tried the direct approach to their captain about his change of moral, to which he denied, accompanied by a weak smile and the excuse he was just tired.

This morning however, the worries turned out to be real as Henry couldn't be awake from whatever dream he was trapped in. John tried to wake his friend, shouting and shacking the man gave no result. The blond man struggled to return to the normal world.

Finally, after the assistance of Tiger Lily, the blond man awoke from his ordeal.

Eyes widen, drenched in sweat and shorten in breath, the Amerindian woman worried for his well-being. She told she was going to find a doctor, but John refused to the woman go search for help. Lily gave him one of her trademark venomous stare, she retaliated by pointing out Henry's condition needed attention of a specialist. Although Tiger Lily knew a lot on physical ailments, she knew little about dreams, but knows it shouldn't take two people to make someone wake up.

However, even Lily's stubbornness was outmatched by John's. In a way, the black man with a mechanical half body knew better Henry then she does. The first time they met, Henry wasn't too kind on his words and literally called out on her different origins then his. Blunt racism, but a slip of words from his part. However, Lily didn't let it go for at least an entire week, until Henry fully apologized to the woman.

If someone understood Henry, it was John and he was visibly ready to defend that position for his friend.

''We can't leave him like this.'' She finally talked it out.

''I know princess,'' oh joy, John still using that dumb nickname for her. She'll remember that, ''but I would be surprise if a doctor can help him.''

She couldn't help, but frown at his declaration. ''What do you mean?'' She waved her hands to cut him off. '' You know what, don't reply. What I mean is, I am not going to stay here and do nothing while our leader is delirious!''

''Thanks Lily, I appreciate it, but there's nothing we can do, no one knows how to help him.'' He finally let go of whatever information he was holding on.

Lily was about to reply, but was caught off by Henry's sleepy tone.

''… what time is it?'' If either of them told the hour, Henry would kick himself in the rear to get suit up and go to the shooting gallery.

''You're not late for anything man.'' Reassured John. Tiger Lily took noticed of Henry's lack of energy. ''Just... relax for awhile. We are still grounded.''

That wasn't the answer Henry wanted to hear and shocked at the order of his friend. Did he knew Tiger Lily was here with them too, or was he ignoring her?

''Is mister president awake?''

The killing question. John didn't want to answer, his silence will be his witness. Lily, however, decided otherwise.

''Lincoln is still unconscious.'' She answered with a cold voice.

The blond man's face changed in a blink of an eye, from serene to immediate shame. The furious motion of slamming the side of his fist to the wall made the Afro-american and Amerindian to be caught by surprise. Who knew a fatigued man could still be able to move so quickly and break his little finger at the same time?

''Henry, damn it!'' Lily didn't sugar-coated her words as years of first respond kicked in and went immediately to Henry's bloody hand.

As she grabbed the hand, she saw the man's expression. If she can see the defeat in a man's eyes, she would see the devastation in his stare. She quickly tend to the hand, the pinky was oddly bend and scratches from the sudden impact open up small cuts. It was nothing to worry, but she had to go get the first aid kit at the hand of the corridor.

''I'll be back.'' She rest Henry's arm to its respectable position and leaved the two men alone.

''Hurting yourself isn't going to make things easier, man.'' John's words of wisdom for the day.

Henry allowed himself to let out a chuckle.

''Need a kick to wake up. Like Fox's morning coffee.'' He remarked, trying to move the injured hand, but couldn't as he hissed at the sudden pain. ''Bad idea...''

''Yup.'' Smirked the mechanic with a half-smile. ''Seriously man, what's the matter? You're like...''

''I know.'' Henry managed to sit to the bed's edge sluggishly, his eyes were turning glassy. ''I know John, I know... I'm working on it.''

The mechanic kept quiet and didn't let go of Henry's from his sight. Whatever it was to make sure he wasn't going to break another finger or wait for the blond to talk further was a mystery. He kept an eye on the silent man, waiting for Lily to come back. As they waited, John barely heard his friend let out a quiet laugh.

''This is ridiculous...'' He caught in his ears. The black man decided to remain his mouth shut, didn't want to start up something which can escalate to a uncontrollable argument and God knows he didn't want to start one with the leader.

Tiger Lily finally came back, didn't bother to knock on the door, and armed with a white box with a red cross. She came by the blond's man side and opened the container on the bed. She gave a glance at the hand, didn't stop herself to shake her head in dismay.

''You move it again.'' She accused the injured man, he didn't even fought for his innocence. Lily had an eye for this sort of thing, been a medic has its perks.

''Sorry.''

''Don't apologize, just don't you even dare do that. Ever again.'' She ordered in a cold voice, he only nod to her, slightly reluctant to speak up against her.

As she patched him up, Lily's thoughts on the sudden outburst from her leader made her think. He must be frustrated to be grounded until Lincoln awakes from his coma. She met the doctors from the magical land a hour ago, they stated the president's condition didn't improve, but remains stable. All they could do is to hope for his awakening, soon.

And here lies the problem; time. They have no time, the Earth is in war against an alien race which is design to conquer the planet in a thick coat of frost. They had been fighting for now a month and time is running short for the humans. Unlike them, they have limited resources. Soldiers need to sleep and eat, the aliens don't. You could kill a squad of the blue bastards, but they will always come back twice as large. It's like cutting the head of the legendary Hydra and they had no fire to cauterize the stumps.

The woman finished her work, giving a good-looking wrap of bandages around the man's hand. The injured finger had been placed in its right position, support by two sticks under the wrapping.

''There, give it a couple of days and your hand will be fine.'' She instructed as she put back all the instruments back in the white box. Both men thought the woman will no say more on the matter, but she proved them wrong. ''Why the self inflicted wound, captain?''

''Pardon?'' It wasn't going to work, the Amerindian folded her arms in disapproval.

''Don't play me from an idiot, you did it on purpose.'' She schooled annoyingly. '' I have seen animals bite themselves less painfully then your punch.''

''What does it have do to with that I did? Last time I checked, we humans aren't animals.'' Replied Henry, who started to fume from the insult from the woman.

''Yeah, you should open a book once in an awhile, Flemming. You might learn a thing or two.'' If John wasn't close to Henry, the blond man would jump to Lilly's throat.

The half-man immediately saw Henry's about to stand up and quickly put his hand on his shoulder. Due to his condition, the captain isn't strong enough against John's firm hold.

''Princess, thanks for the comment, but I think we are all pretty much on edge right now.'' The mechanic explained to the annoyed medic and the soldier at the same time, '' I think we can keep our complains for another time.''

Tiger Lilly gave a glare at Henry who returned it tenfold. She sighed and shocked her head.

''Yeah, I guess you are right,'' she allowed herself to see down one of the chair facing both John and Henry, '' we don't need more drama then what we have right now.''

''Agreed, right Henry?'' John asked to the man with the broken finger, he hasn't stop staring at the medic.

''Yeah,'' he finally replied, dryly, to his friend, the hand on his shoulder has been removed, ''we don't.''

''So can we come clean then,'' Tiger Lilly suddenly suggested to her leader, ''would you mind explaining what is wrong with you?''

Henry didn't want to answer to the question, he sure wasn't fully aware of what was happening to him neither. After all, everything he has done in the past should have stop those crisis by now.

''And don't try to give me that half-excuse you gave to everyone, cause I am not falling for it,'' she explained to the blond man.

The leader remained silent for a second and then answered by a calm voice, '' I guess I'm just worried about Mister President.''

''So that's why you have been so cut off from everyone, because you are _worried?_ '' She let out a scuff of annoyance from her lips. ''For the sake of everything on this Earth, Henry man it up! You are our leader for crying out loud! What sort of leader are you if you can't keep your head straight?!''

John was about to say something to Lilly, which isn't pretty words by the way, but Henry counter-argument quicker than the black man.

''You're right,'' John let out a surprise gasp out of his mouth and Lilly frowned at his answer, ''Mister President is a great example in leadership. He is always calm at the face of danger, readying himself to fight the impossible. He has earn the respect of all men, women and children of the United States through good choices for his people. So yes, I should live up to his status as temporary leader of S.T.E.A.M.''

He got up from his bed and stared right in Lilly's eyes, they were filled with determination, dominance. Those blue eyes forced Lilly's to look away at the intensity of his look.

''That's why I ask to Queen Ozma to help Mister President in his recovery,'' Lilly's head jerked up in shock, it was Henry who asked the Queen? She always thought it was Katherine, the left-hand of Lincoln, '' because I know only Mister President can lead S.T.E.A.M to guaranty success against the aliens.''

''Can't help yourself with the glory?''

''No,'' Henry shocked his head to the woman's question, ''I can't leave a man behind.''

And with that, Lilly smirked at his response and got up from her chair. ''Guess I misjudged you, again.'' At least she was frank about it. '' Fine, hope you'll get better soon, leader.''

And on that, she left the room leaving a bewildered John and a serious Henry in his own room.

''Well, that was... eum, unexpected,'' the half-man and machine tried his best to lighten up the situation, ''glad the situation didn't went worst.''

''Same here, Lilly can be overreacting at times,'' Henry headed to his drawers and started to change to his official uniform, ''so what's the plan?''

''Waiting.'' There goes everything so far, Henry returned to his short answers. ''Maybe going to the training room.''

''Hey, that's something you haven't done for awhile.'' John was genuinely smiling at the answer, but looked down as if he was guilty of a crime. ''Wish I could join, but kid and I wanted to work on something important at the workshop.''

Henry didn't investigate further in what John had in plan for the rest of the morning, he's done dressing up and was just putting on his gloves.

''Have a good morning then,'' Henry's reply sounded uninterested at the short conversation they had and exited his own room before John had the chance to say anything in return.

As he walked down the empty hallways of the blitz, Henry couldn't help but feel has if something is going to happen. Whatever it would be, he isn't looking forward.


End file.
